Dine Out: Fiesta's short on zest, but satisfying

Thursday

Mar 27, 2014 at 9:46 AMMar 27, 2014 at 10:07 AM

My mother, trying to shake my love for Taco Bell in junior high, took me to my first sitdown Mexican joint 30 years ago. It was a place in San Francisco that she and my stepdad Jim were crazy about; she figured that once I tried the good stuff, I'd be on a path lined with exquisite mole sauces and tender, hand-wrapped tamales

Jonathan Comey

My mother, trying to shake my love for Taco Bell in junior high, took me to my first sitdown Mexican joint 30 years ago. It was a place in San Francisco that she and my stepdad Jim were crazy about; she figured that once I tried the good stuff, I'd be on a path lined with exquisite mole sauces and tender, hand-wrapped tamales

Didn't work.

"Gross!" I pouted. "There's no nacho cheese on anything!"

Although my fondness/weakness for Taco Bell is still going strong three decades later, I've since developed a taste for the finer things in life. I'm excited about the prospect of the new Mexican place Frontera Grill opening in Fairhaven next month, as is my son, who loves Mexican restaurants and is a classmate of the first-grade son of the just-relocated owners.

Which brings us to Fiesta Family Restaurant on County Street in Somerset, a Mexican restaurant I had spied during random travels around the area.

When my friends Jack and Jesse, a father-son music duo from Rhode Island, wanted to get together with me last week to talk about their new CD, I suggested meeting at Fiesta as a good geographic midway point.

Jack and I have been friends for 25 years, since my band walked into his studio to record a three-song cassette, and the relationship has deepened every year since. There are a handful of people in my life that get an "I love you" at the end of every phone call, and Jack is one of them.

Anyway, I was looking forward to the company first and foremost, but when I got to Fiesta about 10 minutes before my friends, I realized I was also looking forward to the food; I was pretty hungry.

Not to worry.

There was limited parking available in front of the narrow, tall building, but I overshot and parked in a grocery store lot right next door. Located on a busy road, Fiesta has long curtains blocking the activity inside, which gave the place a slight air of mystery; this disappeared when I stepped inside and was greeted by the warm sight of a bustling, happy, normal dining room.

The decor was maybe a bit cliched — Southwest patterns and colors, purples, greens, reds — but also very welcoming. Everything was squared away, clean, neat, organized; you could pretty much tell from the get-go that the operators here knew what they were doing.

I was seated promptly by one of several Latino men in Fiesta T-shirts moving swiftly around the 30-table main room, and when I took a four-man booth another strode purposefully to my side.

"Hola mi amigo," he said, setting a nice tone. "Chips and salsa?"

I said yes, and BANG! he was off, ducking around a corner and returning 3.52 seconds later with a small basket of homemade chips, mini-goblet of homemade salsa, and two little individual dishes.

The chips could have used a bit of salt, but the salsa was really good, fresh and simple, tomato as the star with the perfect balance of spice. Mild, but delicious.

While I was perusing the menu, Jack and Jesse arrived. We all exchanged hugs and caught up, snacking on the rest of the basket of chips (and starting another) as we talked, and finally started putting together our dining game plan. I got a Diet Pepsi ($1.69), they got glasses of water.

Similar to the decor, the menu was pretty much boilerplate; like Chinese restaurants, there's a pretty clear template for family Mexican; a long menu with all the apps and specialties that most Americans would seek, and a couple of curveballs.

We chose the taquitos ($6.99) to start, narrowly edging the Nachos Fiesta ($8.99) for opening honors. They arrived after a short time, five crispy rolls full of spiced chicken, cut in half and surrounded by lettuce, pico de gallo, cheese and sour cream.

The presentation was good, and the side stuff was welcomed, but ...

"Zest," said Jack. "I believe it needs more zest, Jonny."

We agreed that zest would have been welcomed — in aiming for American, suburban tastes (cheeseburgers on the menu were a bit of a tell), maybe Fiesta is a little too conservative with spice and flavor. There were no bottles of hot sauce on the table, either, a bit of an oddity.

But the taquitos were eaten happily, and we talked about Jack and Jesse's CD. The two of them started playing together five years ago, and have produced two albums that my son Benjamin and I both know by heart. Jesse sings lead, a clear, clean vocalist who I've watched get better and better through the years, while Jack plays guitar and sings the harmonies. Sometimes they're a duo, sometimes they're the Jesse Liam Band. Either way, it's pretty special seeing a father and son performing together, and loving each other so obviously.

They're getting an EP ready for release, and we talked about the songs in depth and generally just enjoyed being together.

Our friendship does not need more zest.

The entrees, which came at a well-timed interval, were good, if not completely zestitudinal, and none of us came too close to finishing the large portion.

Jack chose the "Tres" combo ($12.99) — three picks from burrito, enchilada, tamale, taco, quesadilla, chile relleno and tostada — plus rice and refried beans. After some consultation with the glossary of Mexican dishes, he went with enchilada, tamale and tostada. Served on a large, oval plate, the melding of the three items with the beans and rice was successful, but the individual flavors were a bit indistinct.

My entree was excellent, the chile colorado ($12.75), super-tender squares of steak in a dark, tangy Ranchero sauce, with rice and beans. I skipped the tortillas for the sake of my waistline, but they would have been good to make little mini tacos with.

Jesse got the fajita chimichanga ($11.25), which was what you'd expect — a fried burrito filled with bell peppers, onions, chicken and cheese, covered with a tasty cheese sauce. It came with the rice and beans, and with lettuce, guacamole, sour cream and pico de gallo.

We all noted how good the refried beans were, a good sign for lovers of all things bean.

The funniest moment of a night with lots of laughs came when Jesse ordered a pina colada ($7.50). Jesse, who is in his early 20s, is soft-spoken and baby-faced, and will probably be getting asked for ID through the year 2052. When he asked for it, the server started to walk away without checking the ID, then came back.

"With alcohol?" he asked, somewhat incredulously. Jesse nodded, and the server stuck out his hand: "Oh, ID, ID!" Then, the bartender came back to the table with it a few minutes later, and when she looked at us to see who got what, we pointed to Jesse.

"OK," she said. "You know this has alcohol in it, right? "»"

After the food and drink were finished, we got the fried ice cream ($3.99), which was just OK thanks to the crispy shell not being so crispy. The bill (without the controversial colada) was $52.75, plus tip to an even $65.

All in all, Fiesta would be a great destination for someone looking to expand into an area of cuisine they're not familiar with, or for a pleasant, tasty lunch or dinner.

And if you're 23 but look 18, remember: Bring your ID.

Dine Out's reviewer visits restaurants unannounced and at his or her discretion. The Standard-Times pays for the meals reviewed. The reviews merely reflect one diner's experience. Ratings range from 1 to 5 stars.